


The Masquerade

by Consulting_TARDIS_Hunter



Category: Original Work
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Artists, Flirting, Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, Light Angst, Mardi Gras, Mental Instability, Morbid, Murder, Murder Mystery, Obsession, POV Third Person Limited, Some Humor, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Tags May Change, Unreliable Narrator, What Was I Thinking?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 14:12:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17061260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Consulting_TARDIS_Hunter/pseuds/Consulting_TARDIS_Hunter
Summary: A story about Detective James Garrett and his partner Derek Jackson hunting down a serial killer plaguing the streets of New Orleans during Mardi Gras. All of this happening while James's mind crumbles around him while his love of the man's art comes to light.Have fun reading this, I wrote this for my forensics class but trust me it's kinda good. I can't do this justice with a summary.





	The Masquerade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tea_fan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_fan/gifts).



The colorful beads were thrown into the cheering crowd from a bucket near him. The glittering lights and decorations from his own float nearly blinded him, causing him to look at the dark, silent companion beside him. A decoration added yesterday to their float, if he didn't know any better he'd say the girl was human and just mute.  
  
Perfect in every imitation of a human being with its rubbery skin and reflecting eyes, a blue glow coming from within her. Her dress hung closely to her, a festive green complimented with a purple and gold mask that led your eyes to the beads draping the loving time someone put into creating her. Down to the last freckles that dotted her cheeks and scars streaking across her legs. Every last imperfection making a perfect work of art, even with the beads stringing her to the mast.  
  
"Throw me something Mister!" He heard a crowing voice call from the thick of the crowd. He reached into the bucket of throws and picked an odd feeling coin, throwing it to the man before the float passed by. He's never felt this alive until this moment, when he's up on this float and everyone's cheering and everyone is looking at this art, this parody, this... caricature of himself. Someone beautiful.  
  
It felt too soon when the parade came to an end at Carnal street even when the beauty extended beyond to the French Quarter. What was different about this time was the police at the end of the line for them.  
  
"What's goin' on sir?" He asked when he hopped off the float, landing right next to what looked like the man in charge with a jangle of beads. He lifts his mask to talk to him.  
  
"We're just checking the parade floats for anything suspicious. There's been some odd things going on and we just want to make sure it's safe." The man replies, getting out a note book and gesturing for a man with a dog by his side to investigate the float. "What's your name?"  
  
"Archie, Archie Travis. Seriously what're you checking for?" Archie asks again, confused and a bit afraid.  
  
"Nothing you need to concern yourself with Archie. Is there anything on the float that wasn't there yesterday?" The investigator looked up at him from his notepad after he wrote his name.  
  
"Well, someone added a decoration. But that's about it." Archie gestured to the lifelike woman strung to the mast with beautiful beads. "What's your name by the way?"  
  
"I'm Detective James Garrett. Do you know who added the decoration? Or who made it?" James is staring intently at his face, like he can see into his very soul.  
  
"Nah sir, it just appeared. I just throw the beads. You should ask," he gestures to a woman talking with another officer, "her, she knows a lot more than I do 'bout it."  
  
Just then they both hear the dog start barking at the float as though it's seen a ghost. "It's here sir!" A man called to the detective.  
  
"Excuse me." James says absently while leaving the conversation and walking to the other man. "So we got another one, Derek?"  
  
"Twelfth one this cycle. This one's displayed the same way and everything." Derek was looking at the body with disgust while the forensics team did its thing.  
  
"So that means the same nothing we've been dealing with these past few years." James sighed out heavily, ready for a long night, though not the agonizing week of following the trail of bodies to nothing.  
  
"I wouldn't say that now Jay." Derek looked to him with a bit of a smile. _He has something, he can help me find him_.  
  
"And why's that?" James asked casually, with a hint of skepticism. He couldn't seem to look away from the body. _She's just so, beautiful. Some kind of ar- no. No. It's so messed up it's getting into my head._  
  
"He cut a piece out of her leg, about the size of a dollar coin." He proclaimed it like it was some big news and not just another piece of her to find.  
  
"Okay, explain it to me like a civilian and I don't know what the hell you're talking about." James said slowly, because he seriously couldn't see the importance of it. _I still can't bring my eyes away from her, she's like a wax or rubber statue. There's not a mark on her except that cut. He doesn't want to ruin his creation so, why now?_  
  
"...Think of it like this Jay, he's evolving his kills and his technique. And when a killer evolves, they're bound to make mistakes like... where do you think he hid that disk of flesh? Did he even keep it? Is this a one off? He's gonna slip up and leave us somethin', then he'll be ours." Derek's speech was getting faster and faster as he continues. James is barely listening, lost in the beauty that is the corpse. _Wait wax or rubber statue. There could be something to that._  
  
He interrupted the other man after he zoned out. "Hey, do you know of any places where they make silicone statues?"  
  
Derek looked mildly offended by the interruption but quickly catches his train of thought. "Yeah, why? You think you got something?" He asked excitedly.  
  
"Just a hunch short stack, don't get too excited." He held out his hands while the other practically buzzed out of his skin. _Honestly I'm as excited as him, it's indecent._  
  
"Sorry." Derek contains himself and takes a deep breath. "We'll need to wait til morning to talk to them, they're not like most places 'round here during Mardi gras."  
  
"Yeah well, not a lot of people want to see art at midnight so I don't blame 'em." James sighs out, emotionally exhausted. "Any other ideas?"  
  
"Eating and looking over case files again?" He stretches his arms above his head and sighs. At the other's nod they get back to work with their documentation of the scene.  
  
James gets out his tape recorder and starts to speak, tuning out his own voice in the routine. _How can someone make something so gruesome so beautiful? It's as if he's manipulating them like clay, like she's just a doll to him to create a message. What is it?_  
  
"Hey. Earth to Jay. Jay." Derek is waving his hand in front of his face, suddenly it's a lot brighter than before. He quickly takes in his surroundings, a diner by the looks of it, signified by the cracked sound when he shifts in his vinyl seat. "Where were you, you just zoned out right out in the middle of a sentence."  
  
"Just... thinkin' through the case." James replies dazedly, looking down at his plate. A po' boy. _What in the world, I don't like the ones with seafood so why would I order one. May as well eat it._  
  
"I know you Jay, you don't get that quiet when you think. Are the blackouts happening again?" Derek leans forward as he speaks, concerned.  
  
_Yes!_ "No, I'm fine Derek. You don't need to worry about me." He takes a bite of the sandwich and for once doesn't flinch away from the taste of it.  
  
"Alright... where were we? Oh right, I was just talking about silicone statues." He picks at his own food, glancing at the case files. "There's not a lot of people who use silicone to make art, since it's such a hard material to work with and you need to be so careful with it. And it smells like vinegar while it cures. Plus there's the matter of it not drying in a closed mold. So," he gets out a card and pushes it to James across the table. "I've narrowed it down to one place that can give us a lead."  
  
James picks up the card and stares at it a moment, _the gaudy colors and designs trying to embody a darkness within a person and make it beautiful and it just made it... tacky_. "Folie A Duex. Seriously?"  
  
Derek sighed and took a bite of his fries. "Just trust me alright, I got a feeling about this one." He points at him with another fry before eating it.  
  
"Alright, alright. How'd you find this place anyway?" James realized he's already halfway through his sandwich, and he doesn't even remember doing that. _Guess I like them more than I thought._  
  
"I went exploring in the French Quarter, off duty of course. And found this place when a drunk belle dragged me inside." Derek smiled at the memory, chuckling to himself.  
  
"I get it, you had fun at the art gallery." He smiles but sighs, eating a couple fries at a time.  
  
"Yeah, the silicone statues are beautiful. Some are a bit... disturbed though. That's why I thought of it when you said silicone statues." He scratches the back of his neck, looking away in thought.  
  
James leans forward unconsciously. "What do you mean by, 'disturbed'?"  
  
"Knew that would get your attention. By a guy named Aaron Price, think you'd like him. His statues and sculptures are morbid, like a deer in headlights or the hanging man." Derek eats three of his fries at once.  
  
"Why do you think I'd like him?" James tries not to sound offended. _Well he isn't wrong but why did he say it?_  
  
"Because I ain't stupid, I know how you look at crime scenes and bodies. I know you appreciate their 'art'. And that's alright with me." He says this as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, and that James is perfectly normal because of it. James go silent during this, not knowing what to say.  
  
After a long minute, Derek sighs. "Let's just get back and give over the files, so we can go home." Derek goes and pays the bill while James gathers everything up.  
  
"Jay, seriously you need to start paying attention more. You're home." A voice sighs out and pushes his shoulder. "Get inside before your landlady get suspicious that you're hidin' somethin'." James get out of the car numbly and goes to his apartment, yawning. Dragging himself up the stairs he opens his front door and flips into his shabby bed.  
  
He felt like he didn't get a wink of sleep last night, waking up just felt like he was transported to another part of the day and not even getting any peace of mind for it. _Oh, right. My phone is ringing. Probably Derek._  
  
"Yello?" James answers his phone while getting up to make some coffee and get some bread for toast, something that resembles breakfast.  
  
"Remember, we're going to that art gallery at nine. Don't be late." Derek already sounds on edge today, with a tetch of concern.  
  
"I got it, don't worry. I be in in about an hour. I have to get something to eat before coming in." James hums out, breathing in the smell of coffee.  
  
"Please eat something other than toast, your breath always smells like butter and about to have a stroke." Derek grinds out tiredly, he can practically hear him wipe his hand down his face.  
  
"Ouch, I got it. I'll eat a toast sandwich." He hears a sigh on the other end of the line before Derek hangs up. James shrugs and starts making his breakfast of a toasted ham and cheese sandwich.  
  
"Dude you still smell like a butter stroke." Derek smiles at him though and takes a sip of coffee from a thermos. _Wait, when did I get here? Why am I at the station, what time is it?_  
  
"It's better than rotten tomatoes and seafood, Derek." James shoots back, grinning behind his cup. They're walking to the car now, _why are we doing this? Did I forget something again? A lead?_  
  
"Ouch, I'll keep that in mind." Derek leads them out to the cruiser and puts James in the passenger side. "For safety. I don't know when you're gonna zone out."  
  
"Derek I'm fi-"  
  
"Oh no don't give me that, I know you. You're burning out, but I know I can't get you to stop when we're this close." His tone broached no arguement while he drove them to the art gallery. It's nearly silent except for the occasional murmur of the radio.  
  
"Don't zone out during this alright, we don't wanna freak 'em out." He pushes his shoulder lightly, playful but James could hear the undercurrent of seriousness.  
  
"Got it, I'll be able to focus on this. Trust me." James touches his leg gently, cutting through the pretense.  
  
"I'll try." Derek gets out of the car and pulls him out to the gallery. _God the colors are even worse in person. How can people stand this?_ "I know, it hurts my eyes too." James's eyes widen, realizing he said that aloud. _What else have I said..._  
  
The click clack of heels on tile bring James out of his thoughts. "May I help you?" The woman's accent brings warm bread and poetry to mind, along with the cold steel of a palette knife against wood.  
  
"Yes ma'am, we're here to ask about an artist here." Derek goes closer to the woman, cold blue meeting warm brown eyes.  
  
"You have to be more specific, we have many artists here."  
  
"The man who made that." James points to what looks like a person intertwined with a tree. _I can see why he said I'd like him, it's beautiful and morbid._  
  
"Oh... that, is Aaron Price. He is a piece of work. Smart man, but morbid artist. I keep his work here so he can get some recognition, it might make him refine his taste." _Pretentious and strange woman, she wouldn't know good art if it was shoved down her throat._  
  
"Well, we'd like to talk to him. Maybe ask a few questions about his work. Any idea how to contact him?" Derek slides back into the conversation with ease, a balm to both their edged minds.  
  
The woman hands them a card. "Now, if you'll excuse me." She walks off with a soft click clack. _Oh thank God, muted colors, designs that you can't quite pinpoint. Beautiful. Dark._  
  
"Okay. Are you even listening anymore?" Derek sounds irritated. _Why does this keep happening?! Am I losing my mind?!_  
  
"Honestly, I zoned out again. What were you sayin'?" James replies groggily, looking to his partner and brushing his hair away from his face.  
  
"I was sayin' that the toxicology report came back, there was a lot of alcohol, ecstacy, and anesthetics in her system. Medical grade stuff. Heard from the coroner too, said that it looks like they were forced to swallow liquid silicone and they suffocated, couldn't move to throw it up. And as usual the body was washed and the hair brushed." Derek rattles this off, routine. They both already know it.  
  
"Why are you telling me this?" He looks over at the other questioningly, raising a brow.  
  
"Because while you were out I did some digging on Price, turns out he's a part time nurse with a penchant for stealing and buying a lot of silicone in bulk." Derek seems proud of this while stopping in front of an apartment complex, not the worst he's seen but a far cry from most beauty found in the city.  
  
"Seriously, well. At least it didn't happen during the interrogation." Derek sighs out heavily, hands in his pockets while rocking on his heels.  
  
"Wha-" James blinks  
  
"We're in front of his door, give him a minute before he answers." He glances at him from the corner of his eye, taking in his state. _Probably not good honestly, not that he'll tell me right now._  
  
"Alright, got it." James listens closely to what's happening behind the door, shuffling, some cursing and a God awful smell. _Is that vinegar?_  
  
Then out comes a short, wiry framed man with scraggly mousey brown hair and deep brown eyes, drawing attention to the puffy purple underside of them. He's wearing plastic gloves covered in the foul smelling, curing silicone along with a white face mask. "Sorry for taking so long, I had to move a few pieces out of the way. What can I do you for?"  
  
"We just want to ask you a few questions about your work, if that's alright." James says with an agreeable smile.  
  
"Yeah, sure just," Aaron pulls two face masks out from behind him and hands them to them. "Wear these. The smell is rancid and even when I have all the windows open it lingers." Derek shrugs and puts the mask on with James.  
  
"Okay, now you can come in." Aaron steps aside and leads them into an immaculate room, save for the models he is making. The open molds the source of the smell he can almost see.  
  
"Nice place." Derek says, sitting down on the plastic covered sofa with James.  
  
"Thanks, it's a mess. So, what's this about?" Aaron replies while sitting across from them, working on a small statue of a woman tied to a tree.  
  
"We just wanted to ask you a couple questions." Derek leans forward, watching his face while getting out a recorder.  
  
"Go right ahead." His expression seems placid, calm as he works with a steady hand.  
  
"Alright, where were you at 10 pm two nights ago?" James watched his work rather than the man, getting lost in the swirls of the liquid rubber.  
  
"I was on shift at the hospital, I was covering for a friend of mine. Why?" Aaron looks up now, both curious and on edge.  
  
"We thought you might have witnessed something relating to a string of murders taking place." Derek steps in to ease the man's nerves, we can't have him getting afraid now.  
  
"Oh God, that's terrible. I'll help how ever I can." Odd, normally people clam up and panic in my experience.  
  
"Just tell us whatever you remember from that night." Derek is taking over now, seems like his kind of deal.  
  
"So, what do you think about him?" Derek bumps shoulders with James while they walk back out to the car.  
  
"Hm?" James hums while looking to him, getting into the passenger side of the cruiser.  
  
"Oh God you did it again, well at least I recorded it. But, honestly I think he's harmless." He replied while getting in, starting the cruiser and setting up the equipment again.  
  
"Why is that?" James helps him with the radio and GPS.  
  
"He's so weak he can barely pick up his own rubber statue, let alone a person." Derek sighs out, making sure the hookups are properly in place.  
  
"He has all the materials to kill someone like our serial killer." He checks out the grate behind them, force of habit.  
  
"He's a germaphobe, he won't even shake hands let alone touch someone enough to kill them." Derek starts driving back to the station, following the flow of traffic.  
  
"He might be faking it." James retorts easily, leaning back in his seat.  
  
"You know, you can pursue him as a suspect while I look into actual viable suspects." He rolls his eyes at him, tapping his fingers on the wheel.  
  
"You can't exclude him because of one interview, his art speaks of a disturbed man." James is starting to get on edge. _How can he not see it, it's in his eyes. I know the eyes of a predator like my own face._  
  
"You can't include him either, we have no real evidence." Derek glanced at him while he makes a turn, his tone low.  
  
"Der, has my gut ever steered us wrong?" His voice is almost breezy now, crossing his ankles.  
  
Derek sighs. "No, you haven't. You better be right."  
  
_I don't know how long I've been following him after that interview but two more bodies dropped during that time. So probably two days, I always seem to lose him at parties and parades. This time though I've managed to track him to the biggest ending ball of the year, even if I had to twist Derek's arm a little to get me a surveillance team and a wire. I couldn't exactly do it myself since a lot of the cops at the station think I'm insane. I don't blame them._  
  
_Just as I'm about to give I see him, it's near midnight. I hear his footsteps come up to me_. "May I have this dance? Last one before the masks come off." Aaron asks playfully, holding out his gloved hand though this time it's leather, not plastic.  
  
"May as well." James takes his hand and they walk out to the dance floor, his own hands taking the proper positioning for a waltz. Aaron is the first to take the lead, stepping forward and James instinctively takes a step back from the black masked man.  
  
After a few moments of silence Aaron decides to speak in a hushed voice as he takes a step to the right. "So, I saw you admiring my work over the past few years." His hand settles on his lower back, mouth close to his ear.  
  
"What are you talking about? I didn't know about you until two nights ago." James replied, his own voice shrinking away while his hand is close to his neck. James follows his step, avoiding looking into the eyes of the mask he wears. _Ready to push away anytime._  
  
"We both know that isn't true detective. You want to ask some questions, now's your chance." Aaron takes a step back, pulling his partner with him. A mockery of the intimacy of a dance, perfect imitation in every way but lacking the crackle between them. More of a fire of hatred fanned between them with every step, every word.  
  
"Alright... why do you do it?" James voice is just loud enough to be heard by the other, both are back to their starting position.  
  
"Why does anyone do anything?" The other asks playfully, twirling him. _A_ p _ower play, he wants to show he has me where he wants me. The question is, where am I?_  
  
"You know what I mean." He huffs when he comes back, his positioning respectful.  
  
"I do it because it's beautiful, it's better than what hacks call art these days. What I do is morbid, mortal, experimental... gorgeous. I can see in your eyes you think so too." Aaron gets close enough to whisper now, an excuse on hand since he took a step forward.  
  
"I don't." A step back, head tucked away from him though he doesn't avert his eyes. _That would admit to fear, weakness._  
  
"No need to lie here, we're all anonymous. Loosen up detective." He chuckles, low enough it can be felt more than heard. His breath hitting his skin like a slap to the face, a step to the right.  
  
"Alright, how do you choose your... canvases?" James whispers, following him. I'll probably follow him into the grave with how this is going, _I_ _hope Derek understands I'm just doing this to pull information... I hope I understand that._  
  
"Easy, places like this. If people have too much to drink they'll do anything. Plus, a little shot of anesthesia makes them pliant enough to take a drink of silicone." Aaron is having fun with this, not a hint of regret or shame on his masked face. Now a step back. _Maybe there's two masks there, to hide a terrible monster._  
  
"How do you get them displayed?" James dodges the landmine of a sentence that was to get back on topic. A step forward. _He's trying to get me emotional, for... something._  
  
"Now that, is harder. I have some delivery guys pick them up and help me. They don't know what exactly the pieces are made of, but I pay well for no questions. Such sweet boys, just helping out a struggling artist. Okay, now for a question of my own; Did you ever find that circle of skin cut out of that girl?" Aaron's smile is teasing, like he already knows. Back to the start, dipping the disgruntled detective.  
  
"No, do you know where it is?" James questions. _I should just arrest him now, I have enough evidence. But I need to know more!_  
  
"Shame, I made sure it was thrown to a cop. Guess he really is dumb." He scoffs and rolls his eyes, picking him up.  
  
James grits his teeth, feeling patronized. "Why are you telling me this anyway? Are you wanting to get arrested for what you've done?" He steals the lead now, stepping forward. _He's... laughing. Why is he laughing? What's funny about this?_  
  
Aaron wipes a tear from his eye from laughing so hard. "Oh detective, sweet sweet darling. You really thought you would get out of here alive? That I'd give up something this beautiful, after all you can't spell masquerade without a bit of a massacre." He teases, holding James's face in a mockery of intimacy.  
  
"W-wha-" James stutters in shock as the dance ends, his hand still on his lower back while he leads him off the dance floor.  
  
"You see those decorations there? Inside them is enough C-4 to blow this whole place to kingdom come. It's to late to do anything now, so if you're a religious man... you better pray." Aaron gets close to his ear with a sickly sweet whisper.  
  
"You're bluffing. You wouldn't stay here if that were true." He grits out, going to turn out of his hold and only ending up against a wall. _Trapped in more ways than one._  
  
"Oh you really don't know me detective. Without my art, I'm nothing. I know there's cops out there. I'm not stupid. I also know you've been tailing me for the past two days. So, may as well enjoy yourself for the last few minutes of your life... Oh how shall you spend it?" _Too close, way too close. He's boxed me in, only way out is around him. No, through him._  
  
"You freak!" James broke the spell, the pretense of this whole place when he tackled Aaron to the floor. "Everyone get out there's a bomb in here!"  
  
The ensuing chaos covers up the click of hand cuffs and a head being bashed against tile. The seconds ticked by quickly as everyone evacuated except them.  
  
"At midnight all masks shall be ripped away, all pretences revealed. Every demon and angel shall look man in the eye. Now detective, what are you?" Aaron smiles grimly through bloody teeth from his nose getting hit against the floor.  
  
"I am God." James bashes his head against the tile one more time before the world goes up in flames around them.


End file.
